This time I took a treasure trove to the village ... it was Navarathra and my friend gave me a generous sum for gifts tor the children. I always get them small gifts, but now I got lovely necklace earring sets for all the girl children ... and therein lies a story ...
My village children are used to my goodies, and used to demanding and claiming ... but the village children from across the railway track are a little more controlled. When I showed the set to Chandana, Class 3, her eyes widened at the beauty of the jewellery, but she refused to take it saying, 'My mother does not have Rs. 100/- to give'. When I told her it was a gift sent for her ... she refused to take it saying that she needed to ask her father first. As I insisted, I saw she was close to tears, and I stopped. I asked her to come the next day asfter speaking to her father - I know Ravi very well - and said that I would keep it carefully for her.
The next day she came shining with joy saying that her father had told her she could take the gift.
A couple of hours later when I was going to the school with Varalu carrying the milk, a tear streaked figure ran into my arms, 'Madam, someone has stolen my earrings'. Chandana had left it in her school bag, and it had got flicked.
I went to the school with her, helpless as her most precious possession had disappeared, and I knew I had no way of making up. A promise of getting another one later was I knew too feeble for a child when all her friends would be radiant in the jewellery.
The teacher took over ... and told the children, 'All of you go out and have a discussion. Find out who did it, and quietly bring it back and replace it. It must have been done in jest, but unless it is replaced, no milk , no lunch ...'. And I added what i thought was the final threat, "If it is not found, all the children repolace the earring sets - as none may have, what is denied to one among you'.
The kids saw that i meant what I said. ... and after five mintes they ran in with the 'lost box'. Rohit, all of three, had appearently filched it and gone to the sand pile nearby and buried it there. He has made a habit of burying things. Some children had seen some burying going on - and now went to check up. The treasure was retreived thus, and returned to the rightful owner . ... So they reported, and i know that the world of the children is theirs, and we adults will only hear and see as much as they will allow us to. so i rested the case there ...
Chandna's smiles outshone the chain and the earrings by far.
The children wanted to know who gave them the earrings and necklaces and I told them Debolina. They were very amused as they tried to pronouce it. Dabbu means money in Telugu and they thought that Dabbulina was apt as they had got such an expensive gift from her !
I corrected them saying it was 'Debu' as in their Devudu (Telugu for god), which become Debudu in bengali. Immediately Kavya flashed a smile of understanding and explained to others. 'Add Lina to Debu - as in Debudu or god.'
I hesitate to spend large amounts. Especially on clothes or jewellery. But I've never spent a 2000/- better in my life.
The small eyes that saw the anklets sparkled brighter than the silver.
The tiny feet kept running up and down the doorway thro' the hot afternoon. For the joy of the clinking anklets. Sitting down when tired to admire the tiny red and green meena work flowers on the silver.
First time Vaishnavi has owned silver anklets in her life. Unthinkable for her mother, given the utter poverty at home.
And yet almost every other village girl has a pair.
Silver is an asset in the village families. To be pawned in hard times. To buy rice. And redeemed when times are better. And so when there is a little spare money at home a family buys a little silver. Like a pair of anklets for the girl child.
This economic sense apart, the sense of beauty the woman revels in. Every woman. Vaishnavi too.
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